


Scorpia's Chance

by truebluemoon



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Awkward Crush, Awkward Sexual Situations, Claw fucking, Cunnilingus, F/F, First Time, Frottage, Grinding, Humor, Licking, Light Angst, Masturbation, One Night Stands, Oral Sex, Pity Sex, Rough Sex, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Tribadism, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-06-25 06:18:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19739974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truebluemoon/pseuds/truebluemoon
Summary: Catra claims she’s over Adora (She isn’t). She also claims Scorpia is beneath her (She is, in more ways than one).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starforged](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starforged/gifts).



Catra is at a crossroads, so to speak.

One path is, she can move on. She can hang up her mask and try to move past Adora and all Adora-related phenomena. That road is long and rough and full of thorns. Chances are she’d be chewed up and spat out not even far into the journey. Adora would flash her those baby blues, and, suddenly, she’d hesitate. She’d _want_ to end her, sure, but she’d hesitate and that’s all she needs: the Princesses turning to psychological warfare to psyche her out! But say she overcomes her feelings (Ugh, she hates that word- _feelings_ ), say she finally sucks it up and kills Adora, she’d be rewarded by Hordak for eliminating a key figure in the rebellion. And the Horde would have nothing in their way between them and stopping the rest of the Princesses.

Or, she can’t.

The thing is, she’s not even sure what the other road would look like. So she doesn’t move on from Adora. Does she try to convince Adora to come back? Does she go off and join the Rebellion? Neither make much sense. She’s only gotten as far as she has in the Horde because Adora’s not _there_. She’d never make it far in the Rebellion because she’s no Princess. She doesn’t have magical powers over the natural world, or whatever world lies beyond. She can fight, but that would just make her an expendable foot soldier. They wouldn’t trust her with anything beyond that, considering she’d be both ex-Horde and decidedly a non-Princess. She doesn’t know what it’d look like, and she’s not sure the path would be any easier.

They’d still take advantage of her, regardless. Adora would still be out of reach, regardless. Why does she even still care? Why can’t she just pack up her feelings and send them to another dimension, like one might regift something they got for their birthday? Not that Catra received gifts on the regular. Not even Adora did that for her.

The only real gift they gave eachother was their virginity. She hates that that moment of weakness will always haunt her. She gave in because Adora asked and it was Adora, hard, soft, loyal, unfaithful, stubborn, compliant Adora. Beautiful too. Smells bad in the mornings. Sweaty when they spar. She can still picture the play of her muscles as she moves. She can picture the way they’d get close and their breaths would mingle. They’d exchange blows, but they’d feel like kisses because _perfect_ Adora made everything _perfectly_ amazing.

Catra realizes she’s touching herself before she even hears the footsteps outside. She has good hearing, but they’re faint. So they must not be dead center between her room and the hallway. She inwardly calculates how long she has before she’ll hear the knock on the door.

She rubs her clit through her clothes, trying to work fast without scraping at her bits with the sharp points of her claws. The pleasant buzz that runs through her system builds and builds to a crescendo, but as soon as she’s almost at the peak-

“Catra!” It’s Scorpia, punctuated by a loud clickety-clack of her claws against the door.

“What is it?” Catra snaps.

“Entrapta and I wanted your advice on the piece of First One’s tech she-”

Catra frowns. There’s a such thing as delegation for a reason. “I’m busy!”

“Okay, I’ll come back later then!”

“Please don’t!” Catra calls out through the door.

“Please do?” Scorpia replies, her voice getting fainter and fainter. “Wildcat, you don’t even have to ask…”

Catra growls and kicks at the air. Whatever. She’s gone. She can get back to it. She plunges her hand down her pants, a bit of her shirt getting into her underwear along with her arm.

But then she starts thinking of Scorpia. Scorpia who bothers her near-constantly. Scorpia who is the most irritating woman in the world. Scorpia who looks at Catra like she raises the sun itself. It all just adds to everything wrong there. Scorpia’s insistence on barging into Catra’s life. Scorpia’s determination to get her to notice her. Scorpia’s almost endless touching and feeling and touchy-feely _everything_. It’d be sad, if it wasn’t all so familiar to her. No, actually, it’s still sad with that context, maybe sadder.

And she hates it. And she hates that she’s getting off to Scorpia getting off to-

“Catra!” It’s Scorpia once more at her door.

“What is it this time?” She really needs to get a “Do Not Disturb” sign. In bright red. Punctuated by exclamation marks.

“Well, Entrapta integrated the tech into her robot but now the robot’s attacking me and- Aaah! Save me!” _Big_ exclamation marks.

“Wait, so it’s attacking you but not violently enough for you to stay where you were?” She doesn’t have time for this nonsense. Can she really say she needs rescuing when she’s over six feet of tight muscle versus one of Entrapta’s little bots? She’s just trying to distract her, she knows, but it doesn’t make it any less irritating.

When there’s no response, she calls out, “Forget it. Leave me!”

Scorpia’s voice comes in loud and clear. “Okay, I’ll figure it out. See ya later!” Which makes Catra snarl, but even as she tries to formulate a reply that, no, she _shouldn’t_ see her later, Scorpia’s long strides get her farther and farther away. Any snarky response dies in her throat.

But now Catra can touch herself again. Alone. Without company. The only prying claws would be the ones in her pants.

She starts by sliding her hand back into her pants. She closes her hand into a fist and presses her knuckles against the lips, moving her hips at a steady rhythm. Each rock of her hips grinds her opening against her fist. And she thinks of Adora. Adora in her performance bra and track pants. Adora in her white shirt, except it’s wet and clinging against her. Adora in her dress she wore at the Princess Prom, her toned arms exposed. She slides one bent finger against her clit, rubbing as her hips move faster. She throws her head back and moans, picking up the pace to go further. And further. And further still. It’s hot and heavy and kind of shameful.

Hot and heavy for obvious reasons. Shameful because Adora’s not even thinking of her.

Catra was always just a blip on her radar. A flea in her ointment. The insignificant obstacle on her way to greatness. It doesn’t stop the wanting, though. Maybe she wants even more, because of, in spite of, Adora not giving a shit about her. Like, _Oh, you don’t want me? Well, too bad, not even you can control what I think about when I cum!_ But even as she gets closer to oblivion, she can’t help but think it’s all just pathetic.

But then that same clickety-clack sound permeates her eardrums.

“ _What now?_ ” This time she doesn’t even bother to take her hand out of her pants. It’s just not worth the trouble.

“Well, you sounded kind of angry last time I came,” Scorpia says through the door, “so I just wanted to touch base with you! Are you okay?”

“What happened to the bot?” Catra asks, voice even and bored.

“Oh, it wouldn’t let go, so we shot it to pieces. Poor little guy. Just wanted to take over the world. Isn’t that what we all want in life?” Scorpia sounds like she’s on the brink of tears.

 _Why is she so weak?_ She hates it. Maybe because she’s weak too. Not that she’d admit to it.

“So are you okay?” She asks again. “We’re good, right?”

“Ugh, I’m fine!” Catra snarls. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

She’s getting more sexually frustrated by the minute. She never thought that once she becomes Force Captain that she’d have no time to masturbate. Then again, her fantasies never got that far. It was always the becoming Force Captain she thought about. The moment where she’s finally rewarded for her hard work. She never thought about the reality, the day-to-day tedium of actually _being_ a Force Captain. She’s not sure she likes it.

But she shoves that thought away or else she’d go so far as to think Shadow Weaver was right to not promote her. That, daresay, Catra didn’t _deserve_ it. Nothing good comes of that.

“Sure but I’d rather be here with you!” Scorpia insists.

And there Catra gets an idea. She takes her hand out of her pants and gets off her bed. She stalks towards the door and presses the finger scan for it to open. It slides open with a _whish_. She looks Scorpia straight in the face, having to angle her head up to reach her gaze. “You want to be with me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” She says, and she gets this dreamy quality in her voice that makes Catra sick to her stomach.

“You’re getting your chance,” Catra says. “Get inside and take off your clothes.”

There’s a pause where Scorpia’s expression is still, full lips unmoving and eyes glazed over. It’s an awkward moment where Catra’s wondering what the fuck is going on in that head of hers. That is, before Scorpia’s eyes widen in understanding.

“Oh, haha- that- _wow_ \- Not that I’ve thought about this or anything,” Scorpia chuckles nervously, stumbling over her words. “For weeks, months, forever.” Another chuckle.

Oh Hordak, this is sad. Catra’s heart twists in her chest despite herself.

“But don’t you want a little bit of romancing?” Scorpia questions, raising one claw and then the other as if to weigh the options. “Some flowers, a little music.” She gives a little shoulder shimmy. “Do you like the sound of that?”

“Mmm,” Catra says as if considering. Her head tilts to the side. “Do you like the sound of me shutting the door?” She hovers her finger over the scanning pad.

“ _NO!_ No!” Scorpia holds out her claws in a stopping gesture. “But wait- just hear me out- let’s do it in my room. There’s better airflow, I have a padding over my mattress. It’ll be more comfortable.”

“Fine,” Catra grinds out through gritted teeth. “We’ll have sex in _your_ room. Happy now?”

Scorpia lets out a small squeal, clasping her claws together. “Delighted!” She offers her her arm, bent at the elbow. “Shall we?”

Catra shoves it away. “Don’t get any ideas.”

Catra is at a crossroads, but, right now, she's going to ignore the fork in the path. Right now, as awful an idea it is, she's choosing Scorpia.

“But I have so many already!” Scorpia replies.

Catra curses under her breath. This is going to be a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

When Catra and Scorpia reach the latter’s room, Catra watches Scorpia slide in her keycard. _It must be difficult with those meaty claws_. The door still opens to them, despite the unwieldy nature of her limbs.

Catra immediately starts stripping the moment she enters the room.

“Woah, woah, wildcat,” Scorpia says. “I’m glad you’re eager…”

Catra senses a “but” coming. That’s not the only butt she senses as Scorpia turns to tap on the scanning pad. Her ass looks firm, the kind that you’d get from intense workouts. Everyone in the Horde undergoes rigorous training, but Scorpia’s toned body seems to go above and beyond what the Horde demands.

“But let’s-” She looks at Catra and her expression shifts to one of shock. Catra’s been caught. “Were you checking me out?”

“N-no!” She sputters out. People don’t “check out” people in the Horde, and, if you do, it’s to be challenged, mocked for your weakness. The last time someone was caught looking over Octavia in appreciation didn’t end well for him… And that was the most recent example.

Catra’s not weak. She’s stronger than anyone could have thought. She was _not_ checking out Scorpia.

“It’s alright! You can admire my body, if you want,” Scorpia says with a smile, flexing for her. “I worked hard to get it.” The play of her upper arm muscles seems to almost glisten in the light, bulging in some places and curving in at others.

Catra turns away, feeling a prickle run straight through her clit. **_She_** _can get it_ , she was on the edge of thinking. But now she was thinking about how desperately she wasn’t thinking it, which makes her then think of it, if only by proxy. “I wasn’t.” Her face feels hot with humiliation.

Scorpia reaches out and grasps Catra by the chin with her claw and gently turns her head towards her. “Catra, it’s okay.” It’s said so softly it hurts her. This isn’t what’s supposed to happen.

“Let’s kiss,” She says, if only to shut her up because Catra’s on the verge of tears.

“Okay,” Scorpia says and leans down so Catra can reach, letting go of her chin in the process.

Catra launches herself at Scorpia, practically throwing her lips against hers. She bites at and scrapes her teeth against her lips. She wants to tear her apart, piece by piece. Her hands are grasping the back of her neck, her claws digging into Scorpia’s skin.

And, Scorpia mostly allows it. She doesn’t respond in kind, but she moves against her gently and grasps her with care, like Catra is made of glass. Considering the differences in size and weight class, she just might be. But she isn’t thinking of Scorpia, the differences between them or the similarities; she’s thinking of Adora.

Beautiful, blue-eyed Adora, who’s strong like Scorpia but with a more wiry build. She’s slender, though not bony or even really skinny. Her breasts are the only soft thing on her, the rest of her hardened by intensive training over the years. They’re soft and small and the nipples harden when Catra plays with them. She wants to toy with Adora like a cat would with a mouse. Then, when she’s had her fun, she consume, consume, consume. Keep Adora inside her so she can’t leave again.

Catra stops, her eyes stinging.

Scorpia moves her head away to look at her better. “Everything okay, wildcat?” She says it gently, with such affection, but Catra bristles at her words, or rather the way the words are said. It’s all a lie - a lie to keep Catra from realizing she’ll leave her too. Because if even Adora would leave her, what's stopping Scorpia?

“I’m fine,” Catra snarls. “Less talking, more kissing.”

Scorpia plants her lips on her, moving nice and slow against Catra’s. It’s pleasant, in a way. Not like Adora’s kisses, but still nice. She idly wonders at the shape of her mouth and then she decides to answer her questions. Her tongue moves to take in the curves of her mouth, darting out on occasion to get a sense of the insides. Their tongues meet, get acquainted, and then part again.

She thinks of Adora’s long legs. They go on for miles, and they’re shapely, just begging for a hand to drag along their curves. She wants them wrapped around her hips, the pants shoved down to her ankles. The fabric would drape around Catra’s ass as she grapples Adora’s body in her arms.

Catra gets impatient, moving her lips faster against hers. She pries Scorpia’s mouth open again with the bend of her tongue and presses inward, invading her. Because that’s what she’s supposed to do as a member of the Horde, right? Invade. Take. _Conquer_. She starts at the edges, before swarming her tongue. She wants to squeeze her into submission. She wants to invade, take, conquer.

Scorpia again lets her, only moving to soothe. A claw at her back, a press of foreheads. It’s tender and loving. And it drives her crazy, and not in the good way. Why isn’t she fighting back? Why can’t she meet Catra on her level?

Catra’s head tilts away from her lips, her forehead leaning against Scorpia’s. She breathes a hot breath, and it ghosts along Scorpia’s face.

“Catra,” She says and puts her down on the ground. “What is it? Do you… do you need something to get you going? I’ve been reading up on aphrodisiacs.” She gestures her claws toward her little fridge in the corner. “Can I interest you in some oysters, clams…” Her expression seems to falter then. “- cockles?”

“You should know by now that _cock_ les would be the last thing I’d be interested in,” She says wryly.

“What about… catnip?” She gives a small, hopeful smile like a peace offering.

Catra cocks her head to the side. “Did you just stick my name onto something to make it sound like I’d like it?”

Her mouth hangs open before moving. “No?”

“What next? Catnaps? Catcalls? Catfish?” With each word, she extends a finger, counting the possibilities.

“Do you or do you not realize that those are actual-” Scorpia shakes her head, banishing the thought. “You know what, forget the aphrodisiacs. Let’s try kissing again. On the bed.”

Scorpia sits on the bed, and Catra plops herself down on her lap. “Don’t order me around.” She presses her lips against Scorpia’s.

Scorpia kisses back before leaving her lips. “It was a suggestion-”

She’s interrupted by Catra’s nibbling at her lips. Her fang digs into the soft flesh before departing again. “One that sounded like an order.”

They kiss again, before parting. “Won’t do it again.”

Satisfied, Catra lets the next kiss go on and shapeshift into something else entirely. Their tongues tangle like threads weaved in fabric, twisting and dangling along one another. Catra grabs the tufts of Scorpia’s hair and deepens the kiss. Scorpia gives an answering moan.

Catra surrounds one of Scorpia’s claws with her legs, gripping her arm with her knees. Slowly, she starts grinding her lower lips against the edge of Scorpia’s claw. She lets out a moan and continues gyrating her hips, each gyration sending the dully pointed edge in contact with her clit. Thankfully, Scorpia’s claw stays still, avoiding sudden movements, as if Scorpia knows full well what Catra’s trying to accomplish. Maybe she does. Not even she is that dumb.

She quickens her movements, feeling something build up inside her. Some kind of energy. It’s powerful, all-consuming. Her hips shake faster, faster, _faster_.

Then, she reaches the peak. The pleasure is too much to describe. It’s consuming every corner of her mind. It’s everything.

Her back bends, and she lets out a gasp.

Something wet and sticky squirts out of her, getting on her thighs, on Scorpia’s claw. She hasn’t had to deal with cum for a while. The texture feels too thick, unyielding. It feels uncomfortable almost, against her skin.

She breathes into Scorpia’s neck.

“What do you want, wildcat?”

No one’s ever asked her that before.

Tears start to run down her face, even as she tries to blink them away. Her hips are still shaking from the aftershocks, and she hates how weak she is in Scorpia’s arms. “Shuddup.”

Scorpia doesn’t just shut up. She shuts _down_. Her head lowers to lean its fore against Catra’s shoulder. A breath escapes her lips, brushing against her chest. And she’s quiet, but it’s an uncomfortable quiet.

They stay like that for what feels like forever.

Catra tries to think of Adora, but it just makes her feel worse. The tears streak down and hit Scorpia’s neck and shoulders. _I’m so fucking stupid. Why am I crying like a kid?_

She pushes Scorpia down onto the bed. The woman relents. She doesn’t look in Scorpia’s eyes, not wanting her inane pity. She doesn’t want her anything. Not her pity, not her affection, not her anything. She’d probably just ruin it with her stupidity.

Catra moves to straddle her at the waist before sliding down to her hips. One leg is between Scorpia’s thighs, the other grazing Scorpia’s outer thigh.

Then, she starts grinding against Scorpia’s leg, which has the bonus of moving her leg against that spot between Scorpia’s thighs. Scorpia moves in turn, her arms wrapping around Catra’s body to keep her close. They frot against one another, pushing eachother to their respective brink. The friction is so intense it even starts to burn a bit, but it’s a good burn, and Catra grinds harder in reaction.

“My wildcat,” Scorpia groans.

“Call me “wild” one more time,” Catra threatens, the sharp points of her claws digging into Scorpia’s sides.

Scorpia hisses, but in pain or pleasure Catra isn’t sure. “Wild. Cat.”

Catra scratches into Scorpia’s flesh. “Fuck you.”

Scorpia moans, grinding into Catra’s leg harder. “Keep going.”

“I said, don’t order me around.” She hates that she has to remind her. Scorpia should remember what she’s told. She should obey.

“Please,” Scorpia breathes out.

She’d kiss her to shut her up, but she can’t reach due to the size difference. So she just says, “Shut up.”

Scorpia shuts up.

 _Why is she so fucking spineless?!_ Catra hates it.

She grinds rougher into her to punish her, rougher and rougher. So rough it even gets a little clumsy. She can feel herself getting close. Her clit is practically on fire.

Scorpia breathes. Catra breathes.

And Catra comes.

Catra shakes against her, her body at full throttle. Waves of shock roll through her system until it finally abides. A projectile of liquid leaves Catra’s cunt. She stays hovering over her, the area connecting their lower bodies soaked in Catra’s wet, sticky cum.

“So you’re a squirter. Don’t worry – no judgment here.”

Catra sighs. “Don’t you have something better to be doing?”

“Other than you? Not a chance, wildcat.” She grins, somehow… happy. For what reason Catra can only guess.

“But you didn’t even come,” Catra points out.

“I just want to make you feel good,” Scorpia explains.

“Then,” She pauses before commanding, “make me feel good.”

“I thought you said no orders,” She teases.

Catra rolls her eyes. “I didn’t say “no orders.” I told you not to _give_ me orders.”

“Trust is a two-way street,” She says.

Catra cocks her head to the side, eyes squinting. “What the fuck’s a street?”

An awkward silence falls between them. Scorpia opens her mouth, as if to say something, before closing it again. “Uh- I- You really haven’t spent much time out of the Fright Zone, have you?”

“Just make me feel good,” Catra orders her, having enough of this nonsense.

“I’ll do better than that,” Scorpia smirks, moving down the bed so her head is level with Catra’s crotch. She grabs at Catra’s hips with her claws, the jagged edges pressing into her skin and already forming dents. She first licks the juices off Catra’s inner thighs, which sends tendrils of pleasure towards Catra’s clit. Her whole lower body starts to ache as Scorpia kisses along her now wet skin.

“Stop fucking around,” Catra hisses.

“But that’s the good part,” Scorpia says in between kisses. “Remember?”

Catra gathers the bedding around her hands into her grip. She’s got her there.

Scorpia then makes her way to Catra’s lower lips and drags her tongue along the edges. Catra moans and bucks her hips. But Scorpia doesn’t go any faster or harder. Rather, she draws it out even longer. She makes slow, careful licks, elongating each one as if trying to mark all of her with her saliva. Catra almost cries out in frustration.

“Scorpia, you better know what you’re doing,” She grinds out. Her hips stutter against her.

She keeps making long licks against her, that is until she decides to press her tongue into her clit. The sudden pressure makes Catra gasp. Her licks then start to shorten, and quicken, and then lengthen once again. It gets to the point where Catra can’t even predict what kind of stroke she’ll make with her tongue. And it drives her crazy, in the best way.

Her hips shake in anticipation. Her back arches. Her claws dig into Scorpia’s scalp.

She needs it. She needs release. It’s getting almost painful now.

Her tongue keeps its unsteady rhythm against Catra, but it does get faster overtime. Maybe even Scorpia’s sick of the cycle. Catra feels herself get higher and higher.

The orgasm is dizzying, sending her vision into circles. For a split second, she almost thinks she sees two of Scorpia, before her vision rights itself. She blinks quickly, panting the air in and out of her system.

Her body, exhausted, collapses onto Scorpia’s head. She moves up from Catra and away, sitting herself down at the edge of the bed. Her claw gently strokes Catra’s back, stretching each from the top of her spinal column to the top of her ass crack.

“Do you think we’ll do this again?” She asks Catra.

Catra grumbles. She doesn’t want to give Scorpia the wrong idea, but this was a good way to release her frustrations. “If I feel like it. Why? Do you think so?”

Scorpia shrugs. “I’m at your command, wildcat.”

But she smiles, a knowing smile.

“What are you smiling about?” Catra snaps, though the exertion takes some of the sting out of her voice.

“Oh,” Scorpia’s smile widens. “Nothing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the humor is kind of off. Or the characterization.


End file.
